I fell in love beneath an emerald cloud,
beside the trunk that held its green in place.
Whenever we approached, it gently boughed,
and it kept cool my lover's lovely face.
It never cried, unlike its whitened kin,
nor did it change its hue when skies were gray,
though there were times it could not bear the wind,
but rest assured--it floats there still today.
It floats there still, all green above the brown,
though it was smaller when I saw it last.
My wife was fond of its abounding gown,
and oh so grateful to its wooden cast.
I thus engraved our love upon its bark,
as she had done so deeply on my heart.
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